The Pacha of Many Tales eBook

“Madam, I have important duties at my convent
which will occupy me with the superior till late at
night. These must be attended to; and it is not
impossible that the affairs of our convent may require
my absence for some time, as there are new leases
of our lands to be granted, and I have reason to expect
that the superior may dispatch me on that business.
I will acquaint the young man with what has been discovered,
and will then send him to your arms; but it were advisable
that you allow a few hours to repose after the agitation
which you have undergone, and previous to the affecting
scene that will naturally take place. I wish
I could be present; for it is not often, in this world,
that we can witness the best affections of the heart
in their virtuous action.”

I then took my leave, requesting Donna Celia to inform
her niece of the circumstances, as I presumed there
would now be no obstacle to the mutual attachment
of the young people.

My reason for an early departure was that I might
arrange the story I should tell, when, as Don Pedro,
my new mother would demand from me the events of my
life. I had also to request leave of absence,
which I obtained in expectation of some property being
left to the convent by an elderly gentleman residing
at Alicant, who was expected to die, and from whom
I produced a letter, requesting my presence. As
I was on the best terms with the superior, and there
was a prospect of obtaining money, his consent was
given. That I should be there in time, I was permitted
to depart that evening. I took my leave of the
superior, and the rest of the monks, intending never
to return, and hastened to my lodgings, where I threw
off my monastic habit, which from that hour has never
been resumed. I repaired to Donna Celia’s
house, was admitted and ushered into a room to await
her arrival. My person had been set off to the
best advantage. I had put on a new wig, a splendid
velvet cloak, silk doublet and hose; and as I surveyed
myself for a second or two in the mirror, I felt the
impossibility of recognition, mingled with pride at
my handsome contour. The door opened, and Donna
Celia came in, trembling with anxiety. I threw
myself on my knees, and in a voice apparently choked
with emotion, demanded her blessing. She tottered
to the sofa overpowered by her feelings; and still
remaining on my knees, I seized her hand, which I
covered with kisses.

“It is—­it is my child,” cried
she at last; “all powerful nature would have
told me so, if it had not been proved,” and she
threw her arms round my neck, as she bent over me
and shed tears of gratitude and delight. I do
assure your highness that I caught the infection, and
mingled my tears with hers; for I felt then, and I
even now firmly believe, that I was her son.
Although my conscience for a moment upbraided me,
during a scene which brought back virtuous feelings
to my breast, I could not but consider, that a deception
which could produce so much delight and joy, was almost
pardonable. I took my seat beside her, and she
kissed me again and again, as one minute she would
hold me off to look at me, and the next strain me
in her embraces.